


An American Snake

by BriOfTheSword



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Half-blood Reader (Harry Potter), My heart can't handle death, Slytherin Reader
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-21
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-15 22:47:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28571742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BriOfTheSword/pseuds/BriOfTheSword
Summary: This is not a real story (for now), I'm just posting this so AO3 will not delete the draft. Please move on with my apologies.
Kudos: 1





	An American Snake

**Author's Note:**

> I know... SO little about HP lore and canon, so, be aware, this is all going to be my own version of the HP universe. That said, I'm going to be using some stuff straight outta the books and a lot of info off the internet that I take as facts in the universe we're in.
> 
> I do not own anything from Harry Potter, this is a work of a fan.

Mr. Allen and Mrs. Mitchell, of the newly refurbished home, Haven in Northern England, were proud to say that they were an odd couple, thank you very much. They lead calm but content lives. Mr. Jacob Allen is a successful resort and hotel owner and Mrs. Addie Mitchell is a potioneer, brewing and selling new potions, even inventing new ones now that she's retired from playing Quidditch. These two have been together, through thick and thin, for just over two decades, but were not married until the year before. Due to wizarding laws in America, because Mr. Allen had no magic, the two couldn't be married legally, but managed to build a loving relationship and have a lovely life together. A lovely life that included, of course, their 11 year old daughter, Y/n Allen. Which... is me, just in case that was unclear.

Last year, Dad decided to expand his business and go international, but wanted to keep Mom and me with him rather than travel back and forth without us, so we all moved here to England. And, this year, I'm finally ready to start going to wizarding school. It's sort of a bittersweet feeling since I won't be able to have lessons with Mom now that the whole magic tracking thing is going to be on me now that I'm 11, but I also get to learn new subjects and meet with real professors, so I guess it could be worse. 

"Honey, we're heading to Diagon Alley soon, are you ready? We should get there early, there's quite a few things on your list we haven't gotten yet," I hear Mom call.

Ah, right, the list... where... ah, gotcha.

**HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY**

UNIFORM  
First-year students will require:  
1\. Three sets of plain work robes (black)  
2\. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear  
3\. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)  
4\. One winter cloak (black, silver fastenings)  
Please note that all pupils' clothes should carry name tags

COURSE BOOKS  
All students should have a copy of each of the following:  
The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) by Miranda Goshawk  
A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot  
Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling  
A Beginners' Guide to Transfiguration by Emetic Switch  
One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore  
Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger  
Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander  
The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble

OTHER EQUIPMENT  
1 wand  
1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)  
1 set of glass or crystal phials  
1 telescope set  
1 brass scales

Students may also bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad

PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS

I assume we can't have personal broomsticks because muggleborn kids wouldn't know anything about flying, let alone landing, but it's such a bummer that I can't go flying at all this year... meh, I'll live. Better hurry up before Mom gets impatient though, or she'll drag me down. I hop downstairs and see Mom and Roobey, one of our house elves, talking.

"Are Addie and Y/n having lunch out today, or would they like Roobey to make lunch for when they return?" Roobey asks.

"Ah, actually, we don't know how long we'll be out, so we'll get food while we're out. Do you, Nilley or Pipsy need anything while we're out?"

"Roobey and Pipsy have written some things on the grocery list, and Nilley needs nothing."

"Great, awesome, we'll get everything then. Y/n, you've got your school list, right?"

"Yup yup," I answer, waving the list gently.

"Alright alright. Let's get going."

With that, we both go through the fireplace. Thankfully, it's not raining, just cloudy today. I love the rain, but heading out and actually doing stuff outdoors while it's raining is just impossible, I refuse to believe otherwise. We come out in an inn, the Leaky Cauldron, I assume. It's... not the highest class place, I can't lie. Not dirty or anything, but it is a bit run down. We stand out a bit here. Mom and I are wearing dresses and leggings and neither of us changed to go out. Most of the witches around here are wearing robes and longer Mom leads me out and through an open brick wall to see a cobbled street that twisted and turned out of sight, shops lining each side of it. The first one on our right is called Potage's Cauldron shop, a stack of cauldrons of several types and sizes outside it. I wonder if there's a charm or something to stop anyone just taking them...

"Alright, Potage's first then. C'mon," Mom says, heading in and expecting me to follow.

###### 

"Alrighty, floo powder, potion ingredients, cleaning supplies... think I'm all good kiddo. Now, you've got all the books, extra super-smarty books, fun time books, wand, potion ingredients, English cauldron, because of course England and America have different cauldron sizes, scales, phials, and a collapsible telescope. Ah, and Ticker," she says, looking to the brand new screech owl we just bought. He's a dark reddish brown color and bit smaller than Mom's Eagle owl, which is expected for his species. I was going to name my new owl Owlexander, but the ticking sound he makes on his cage to get attention is cute and I think Ticker is a little more his style. "Now, I know you were between a cat and an owl before, but it will make your Dad and I feel a bit better now that you can send letters out from school regularly, and I can't send you Hoodini too often when I use him for work."

Of course I know that already, that's the reason I got an owl. The school had to actually explain on paper as part of the acceptance letter that Hogwarts has so much magic that interferes with technology that the most technologically forward item allowed and operable at Hogwarts are magically powered radios. Dad wasn't psyched about me not being able to call home.

"Yeah... I'm a little bummed, but it's fine." I was hoping for a cuddle buddy at school, but I know I'll miss my parents too much to not message them often and the school doesn't allow two pets. I like dogs better anyway, so it's probably better this way. "I think we're good. We both got writing supplies, clothes from Madam Malkin's, too many books, a radio... yeah, I'm good if you are."

"Weeeell... you sure you don't want a new broom? The newest Cleansweep is coming out soon, isn't it?" she tempts me. Hopes to, anyways.

"No, I'm fine. I can't even ride it at school, why bother?" If first years can't bring their own broomsticks, I doubt they can be on the quidditch teams. One thing is true no matter where you go: school equipment is always at least a little shitty.

"Well, then we can get it now and you can fly on it before you leave, over the summer and next year. You still wanna play quidditch next year, right? Shouldn't play on that older broom, it's for traveling, not Quidditch."

"My Cleansweep 6 is only, like, barely 3 years old. You're right, not the best broom for Quidditch, buuut, the Cleansweep 7 and the newest Nimbus broom will definitely be out by next summer. We can check those out then. For now, my broom is fine."

"Mm... I wonder where you got that sense from sometimes. Certainly wasn't me. And your father should have spoiled you rotten by now. It's a wonder you're tolerable."

"Gee, thanks Mom. I don't know whether I'm more thankful to be tolerable or to disappoint you, but thanks either way."'

She rolls her eyes at me and leads me in a new direction. "You're mighty welcome, little not-a-problem child. Now, we could stop and get food, or get something sweet before we actually sit down for lunch. How about it? There's Sugarplum's Sweet Shop or Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour?"

"Ooh, ice cream. I'm not really into British wizard candy yet, if I'm being honest."

"Still sore about those weird jellybeans?"

"Who would ever _want_ to eat a gravy flavored jellybean?" She throws her head back, laughing at me. We make our way over to the ice cream parlor, which for all I can see, is a regular ice cream parlor. Sweet. My experience with wizard and no-maj/muggle stuff is pretty diverse, and I like my wizard culture just fine, but sometimes, I really need the food I'm eating to just be delicious and not move (not like those icky chocolate frogs...).

Neither of us know what we want, so we end up ordering two bowls of ice cream to share, getting chocolate, strawberry, vanilla, mint, banana, and raspberry scoops. As the man behind the counter start putting the to go bowls together, Mom turns to me.

"Hey, I was thinking," Mom starts, "I know we don't know which of those houses you're in yet, but send me a letter as soon as you do know. I'm definitely getting you a cloak to match your house, that would be so stinkin' cute."

"You don't have to, they give us scarves and ties that match the house colors, I think the school spirit can wait until I actually need a new robe. We just got three."

"I know, but it would be cool. I'm thinking you'll probably get into Ravenclaw, based on what that little pamphlet said about all the houses, and blue is such a nice color on you. 'Course any color is nice on you, but you've been a smarty pants since forever, so I think you'd do fine." The man, Florean I presume, hands off our ice cream, Mom pays, and we start heading outside.

"Well, I think it can wait, I don't-" I'm interrupted as a blur of red and blue comes busting in the door and straight towards me. Before I could even really comprehend what happened, a boy basically tackles me, splattering us both with ice cream and bringing us both to the floor. Luckily, he didn't come barreling at me hard enough to push me the nearby tables, but still, ow.

"FRED, GEORGE, YOU SLOW DOWN-" yells a woman's voice from outside. I finally get my bearings, and... woah. The boy on the floor, George or Fred, I don't know, he's... cute. Fire red hair, awesome brown eyes... like... wow. Oh, shit, don't stare. I shake myself a bit and sit up to see... another boy, looking nearly identical to the boy on the floor beside me, looking down in shock, and then a small handful of people enter the door behind him. "Oh, George, what have you done now?" a plump woman, presumably the mother of these two- oh... these _many_ children. Beside the two identical boys I'd seen, there are also two more boys and a girl beside the woman.

I turn back to the boy on the floor. "Dude, are you okay?"

He looks surprised for a second, before he responds. "Yeah, bit chilly, but I'll live," he says just as the woman walks over and hauls him to his feet.

"George, don't sass the girl. That's no way to apologize. Oh, poor dear, are you alright?" she says, having turned to me with an infinitely softer expression than she showed her son just now.

"Oh, I'm fine" I try to answer politely, scrambling to get up off the ground. "Um, Mom, could I use my wand for a second?" Hopefully, I can manage that cleaning spell.

"Oh, I'll get it honey, just stay still. Tergeo," she casts, magically wiping the ice cream from my front and depositing it into a nearby trashcan. "George, was it? Need any help cleanin' up?"

"Oh," the woman answers for him, "I'll handle him, I'm terribly sorry to-"

Suddenly, the youngest boy calls out, wide eyed and mouth agape, "Addie Mitchell!"

Ohhh, here we go.

"You're Addie Mitchell!" the boy continues. "Chaser for the California Climbers! You were one of the best Chasers in history! You scored 12 goals in one hour against the Sweetwater All-Stars!" Woah, okay, way more than I thought he'd know. Did he memorize her stats or something? She hasn't even played in years. It's almost impressive.

"Aw, well, yeah. Always happy to meet a fan, little dude," Mom says, smiling at the boy. It might be my imagination, but I'm pretty sure I can feel him and his brothers melting. Mom has a way about her, a kind of warm presence, everyone always thinks so. It doesn't hurt that she's so pretty either. The other woman has cleaned up her son in the meanwhile, giving him what sounds like an earful for running into the shop. And... I don't disagree, he should have slowed down, but I didn't exactly have the quickest reflexes right then either. I make eyes with Mom and sort of nod towards George. She catches on immediately. "Uh, you know, since we're gonna need to get another ice cream for Y/n here, I'd love to get one for my new fan. And your brothers and sister, of course."

"Oh, no need, dear," their mother says, "I'd hate to cause you any more trouble."

"No trouble at all," Mom says with a gentle smile. "Besides, my daughter did just cover your son in a small, barfy rainbow of colors. Plus, now Y/n and I have an excuse to get milkshakes. Always a good thing, yeah?" she asks, a single eyebrow raised as she looks for me to back her up.

"Ooh, yeah! We can try that apple and caramel flavor too," I say with only half faked enthusiasm. Mom looks at the other woman with a smile and a shrug.

"Well, it's decided then. How about it, kids? What would you like?" she says, looking to the youngest two.

"Banana," the girl says, at the same time-

"Chocolate and raspberry!" the youngest boy says loudly. Mom relays the orders to Florean while I manage to cast scourgify on the floor and see the older boys look to their mother for approval, which she reluctantly gives as she cleans off her son, before putting in their own orders. I can't help but think it while they're all standing there, but... they're all really pretty. Every one of them has that gorgeous fire red hair, and they all look alike, obviously, but it's so rare for multiple siblings to be equally as beautiful as the others. I try not to stare, but I can't help thinking what a pretty family they make. God, I hope that's not weird to think... is it creepy to think people are aesthetically pleasing? Mm... I'll decide it's not for now.

While we all head to a couple of tables near the counter to wait, Mom turns to their mother, sticks out a hand, and says, "Addie Mitchell by the way, nice to meet you."

"Ah, forgive me," the woman says, shaking her hand. "Molly Weasley, and these are my children, Percy, Fred, George, Ron, and Ginny." Ah, the one that knocked me over was George then... is it weird to think that one twin is cuter than the other, because... I'm looking right at them, I know they're identical, but-

"Very nice to meet you, ma'am, and you as well," the Percy, I assume the oldest, interrupts my train of thought, giving us both firm handshakes. The twins roll their eyes at him.

"And to you as well young man," Mom says. No one else shakes our hands, and I'm honestly glad about it. It seems a bit uptight for our age. After we all situate ourselves at the table, me and Percy with our moms and the twins with Ron and Ginny at the other table, Mom looks to Molly and asks, "Back to school shopping today, or just out with the family?" Molly and Percy have bags with them, some obviously holding books, but I can't tell what else.

"Ah, yes. Percy and the twins are going to Hogwarts this year." Oh, cute tackled-me kid goes to my school? Score.

"Oh, how exciting! Y/n is going too, for her first year. How do you manage with so many kids? I'm exhausted and we only went shopping for one."

"Oh, well, I had four last year, and will again next year. My Charlie just graduated last year," she says, obviously proud.

"Wow, so you have six kids?"

"Seven," she says, "My oldest, Bill, also graduated a few years ago. Makes for quite a few hand me downs, which is handy."

"Woah, seven... Much respect to you, Molly, I could never." They continue talking but I feel eyes on me and turn to see George, now ice cream free, looking at me. I scooch my chair over, going between the twins.

"Hey, George and Fred, yeah? Nice to meet you."

"Hi, um, sorry about the rush just then," George says, looking slightly sheepish.

"We were racing to the parlour, and... well, Georgie won," Fred explains with a chuckle.

"Just had to get hear that quickly?" I ask with a raised brow and what I hope is a playful tone.

"Hey, ice cream's enough of a reason to rush, I'd say," George answers sarcastically.

"Haha, nice. It's fine. Like Mom said, now I just get more ice cream, so it's all good. You're mom said you're going to Hogwarts, right? What year are you two? Do you like the school?"

"We're second years. School's alright, makes for a good testing ground," Fred says.

"Testing ground?" I ask, intrigued.

"Yeah, George and I, we're-"

"Entrepreneurs. We're making joke products-"

"Like Zonko's or Gambol and Jape's."

"Woah, you _make_ that stuff? Dudes, that's epic." True, I don't really get into that stuff, but I can't deny that many of the products are impressive feats of magic, and who doesn't need a laugh every now and then?

They both puff up their chests a bit at this, not quite smug, but definitely proud.

"Well, nice to be appreciated," George says, wagging his eyebrows at me. I have to laugh. "How about you?"

"Oh, I most certainly do not make joke products." I realize only after I finish the sentence that that's definitely not what he just asked me. Thankfully, though, they both laugh.

"Haha, alright, got us there. You're American?"

"Yup yup. Mom, Dad, and I moved here last year from California. I'll be a first year at Hogwarts next month, and I don't really know much about jokes, but I'm excited for Charms, and Potions."

"Oof, excited for class? Potions too? You may be in for a rude awakening," Fred says, with an expression somewhere between a puckered, sour look and pity.

"Wha- why? Are the Potions classes not great?" I'd always been pretty good at following Mom when she taught me potions, but... are real classes boring or, like, too easy? Too hard?

"They're a bit depressing. Professor Snape, the potions professor, is a bit..." George starts.

"Strict. And the classes are in the dungeons, so they're a bit gloomy," Fred finishes off.

"Wait, stop, hold everything... there's a dungeon? And we get to go inside it?" I'm smiling like a loon, I know, but... what?? Dude, a dungeon! "Oh, I can't wait."

The boys both look a bit dumbfounded, but before they can respond, Mom and Molly call attention to the ice cream and milkshakes being doled out. My milkshake is a bit bigger than I thought it'd be, definitely more than I wanted before lunch, but maybe Mom will want some.

"Well, it's been so great meeting you Molly," Mom says, "I hope we can get together some time."

"Oh, of course, dear, I'd be delighted, and my Arthur would love to meet your Jacob," Molly says. Oh, cool, Mom has a mom friend.

"Well, nice meeting you guys," I say. "Hope I get to see you at school."

"Course, we'll be lookin' for you now," George says.

"Can't get rid of us this easy," Fred follows with a smirk. Don't blush at that, don't get flustered, just smile and wave, I'm like 3 seconds from the door...

Once Mom and I make it outside, she turns to me, slightly melted ice cream in hand. "Well, they seem nice. How'd that go, hon?" She knows I'm not the best around people.

"Alright, those boys seem fun. They said they make joke products... actually, what in the world could they be able to make...? They're, like, 12."

"Honey, you're 11 and can already brew wideye potions and antidotes to common poisons. Some kids just get it." That... explains nothing and everything, but I still get it. I always like how Mom talks. We walk around a bit more, window shopping while we share our ice cream and milkshake and... while I shamefully keep thinking about George. Man, it's... it's just unfair for a boy to be that fucking cute, it really is. One used bookshop, a record store, and god only knows how many other stores I spaced out in later, we head out to lunch and go home.


End file.
